When My Mate Tried to Kill Our Sickly Pup

The silence in the great hall was deafening as my Alpha aura continued to pulse through the room. Killian's face had drained of color, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at me—the wife he'd never truly known.

I didn't give him time to recover.

With deliberate steps, I walked toward the podium where he stood frozen. The crowd parted before me like water, pack members scrambling to get out of my way. Some dropped to their knees instinctively, their wolves recognizing a power greater than they'd ever felt from their Alpha.

"Hazel," Killian finally managed, his voice hoarse. "What have you done?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I reached into the folds of my dress and withdrew a weathered scroll case that had been sewn into the lining—my father's legacy that I'd kept hidden for five years.

With one fluid motion, I unsheathed the ancient parchment and slammed it onto the ceremonial table beside him.

"Do you know what this is?" I asked, my voice carrying across the now-silent hall.

Killian's eyes darted to the document, confusion replacing shock. "What game are you playing?"

"This," I said, placing my hand on the yellowed parchment, "is a Blood Oath signed by your grandfather and my father—the true Alpha of this territory."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even Killian's mother stepped forward, her eyes narrowing.

"I invoke the Alpha's Lament," I announced, the ancient words flowing from my lips with surprising ease. "A challenge that freezes your absolute authority pending Council review."

I traced my finger over the seal at the bottom of the document. "And this," I continued, "is the deed to fifty-one percent of this territory—transferred to me on my father's death."

Killian's face contorted with rage and disbelief. "You can't—"

"I can," I cut him off, my voice steady. "And I have."

---

The next morning, I sat at the head of the conference table—Killian's usual seat—watching as he stormed into the room, his face a mask of fury.

"What have you done to the accounts?" he demanded, slamming his laptop open. "The treasury is frozen!"

I sipped my coffee calmly. "Good morning to you too, Killian."

"Answer me!" His Alpha tone vibrated through the room, but for the first time in five years, it had no effect on me.

"Let me introduce myself properly," I said, setting down my cup. "My name is Hazel Campbell, but in financial circles, I'm known as Nova."

Killian froze, his eyes widening. "Nova? The financial strategist who manages the Lycan King's portfolio?"

"The very same," I confirmed, sliding a tablet across the table. "And as of this morning, all pack investments have been rerouted to secure accounts requiring my biometric authorization."

On the screen, a series of transactions flashed—millions of dollars moved into accounts only I could access.

"You can't do this," Killian hissed. "Those funds belong to the pack!"

"They belonged to the pack," I corrected him. "Now they belong to me—or at least, they're under my control until the Council determines who truly has the right to lead."

Killian's face paled as he realized the implications. Without access to those funds, he couldn't pay the visiting dignitaries, couldn't fund Brittany's coronation ceremony, couldn't maintain his lavish lifestyle.

"You've cut off your own nose to spite your face," he snarled. "You'll need those funds too."

I smiled thinly. "Unlike you, I've been prepared for this day for years."

---

The meeting had barely ended when I felt a sudden chill run down my spine—a primal instinct that made my wolf stir uneasily.

"Luke," I whispered, sensing danger through our bond.

I sprinted from the conference room, my heart pounding as I raced toward the infirmary where my son was receiving his daily treatment. But I was too far away—the financial meeting had kept me on the opposite side of the pack house.

As I ran, I caught glimpses of warriors moving purposefully through the corridors—Killian's Gamma warriors, their expressions grim.

"Where is he?" I demanded, grabbing one by the arm.

The warrior refused to meet my eyes. "Alpha's orders, ma'am. The boy needs Alpha training."

"Where is he?" I repeated, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl.

"The infirmary," he admitted reluctantly. "But you won't get there in time."

I released him and continued running, panic clawing at my throat. Through our bond, I could feel Luke's fear—sharp and sudden—as warriors entered his room.

"Daddy?" Luke's confused voice echoed in my mind through our connection. "What's happening?"

"Mommy's coming, baby," I sent back, pushing myself faster. "Stay calm."

But as I rounded the corner toward the infirmary, I saw them—three of Killian's most loyal Gamma warriors emerging from Luke's room, my son's small form cradled in the arms of the lead warrior.

"Got him, Alpha," the warrior announced as Killian appeared from another corridor.

My mate—my betrayer—looked at me with cold calculation. "It's time my son learned what it means to be an Alpha's heir," he said. "He needs tough love, not coddling."

I knew what this was—not training, but a hostage move. Killian had taken my son to force my hand.

"Put him down," I commanded, my Alpha voice reverberating through the hallway.

The warriors flinched but held their positions, looking to Killian for direction.

"Or what?" Killian challenged, his arm now around Luke's shoulders. "You'll freeze my accounts again?"

I took a step forward, my wolf howling with rage inside me. "I'll tear your throat out."